When We Were Gods
by DeathlyQuiet
Summary: NEW CHAPTER 6 UP! An Ancient Egyptian twist on a VB and GC fic. Egyptology, and attempted to be historically accurate, used to make a sound Egyptian world.
1. Return to Thebes

When We Were Gods

**Chapter 1: _Return to Thebes_**

The waters gently pulsated against the bow of the galley. The river ebbed like the living artery of a beating Earthly heart. It swept steadily through the papyrus beds and fed the ebony, nutrient-rich silt onto the awaiting shores. The inundation this year was late by a few days, but the arrival was still praised in an overwhelming uproar from the resident farms, towns, villages and temples that lined the barren shores. The Mother River, the Nile, was the lifeline that traced the destiny in every Egyptian's life and that beyond that of the physical being, the Afterlife.

The oarsmen on the sailing galley heaved the bulk of the hull into the flow of the inundation, paddles of the oars stroking the surface smoothly, like a lover's touch. Their backs were tanned by the sun and desert, and their arms taut with bulging muscles from the rigorous training and the pull of many a strong current. A few men stood and either end of the galley. They encouraged the oarsmen in their stokes with merry song and rhythmic snaps of the whips on the wooden decks.

Vegeta stood poised on the poop deck with an air of arrogance. He looked over the galley's crew, observing their exceptional speed and powerful strokes. He grinned inwardly, today's hunt had been a fine sport and not without success, he thought. He appeared an awesome sight, adorned in full regimental armour of the Guards of Horus. The tough hide of crocodile and hippopotamus was strong, sturdy armour but lighter than bronze. In his pectoral plate of the tough reptilian hide was studded by rosettes of bronze. The linen schenti was dyed a radiant blue, the colour of Upper Egypt, and was fastened neatly with a firm knot. He wore the upper armband of bronze with the finely detailed engraving of the Wounded Eye of Horus. It was a protection for the person's soul against evil and rival djinn. The military men wore it as a reassurance in waring times.

A tall man with untamed hair, much like Vegeta's wild flame of obsidian, wondered up next to him. He wore the same armour, but due to his height, his pleated schenti appeared shorter than most and settled about his mid-thigh. His breastplate was dull in colour and some of the rosettes were missing but, despite his tattered armour, his demeanour was jovial. A broad smile never once leaving his face as he greeted his fellow officer.

"We are nearing Thebes. It will be good to see the faces of the populace once more," he beamed. Vegeta shifted his position slightly as he glanced over to the man beside him. Smirking at the jovial nature of his comrade, he heartily replied.

"You were always a bleeding heart when it came to departing the port of Thebes. By Seth's foul breath, we have been away but for two days and yet you still pine away for every whore you've left in the Capital. I honestly wonder why you became a soldier in the first place, Kakarott?" The tall man grinned sheepishly, embarrassed by the words, he scratched the back of his head. The first sign of a man in denial Vegeta thought.

"I don't 'pine' for all of them," Kakarott corrected, "just one."

"Well, you will be at her bed before dusk, good man. I see the White Walls to the far east of the River's bend."

The journey back to Thebes had been a rather tiresome affair and now that the city was just on the horizon gave the men a new sense of strength. They pulled away from the pulsing current and steered hard into the next bend, their efforts laboured by the goods in which they carried. The galley was built for speed in times of war. It was the lightest vessel in Egypt's armies. It was made from the rarest material, which Egypt, in all her majesty, could not offer. Wood was sought after in the kingdom and only the extremely wealthy could afford it. The traders transported the various types of wood from the wild lands of Cush further to the south. Galleys were made of the sturdiest, but the lightest wood that was provided, thus not making them the best vessel from transporting anything other than that of their crews and weapons for battle.

Vegeta bellowed orders to his crew, spurring them on in their efforts to win the current over, and with their training and faith in Vegeta, they managed the galley in her turns with military profession and ease. Upon the approach to port, two other military vessels greeted them, the small squadron that Vegeta had left behind to guard the city. His squadron of six galleys were gently directed by the pair of greeting galleys into the ebb of Thebes's populace.

Cheers echoed off the nearest buildings and carried out over the Nile waters. Women and children threw lotus petals into the water and scattered them across the wooden boardwalks and down the beaches. Few of the small and dainty petals drifted in the warm air, settling down aboard the decks of the approaching galley fleet. A massed congregation of people, men, women and children, lined the shores of the beaches, shouting praise to the Gods and to the Guards of Horus. Waders quickly brought in the carcasses of the crocodiles, which the six galleys had towed, ten men to each reptilian beast. They hauled the mass of flesh and scale onto the sands and awaited the butchers to start their work.

The Crocodile Festival of Sobek, the crocodile-headed god, was an important celebration to the people of the Nile. The priests in the Temple of Sobek would allow the culling of crocodiles at the beginning of each inundation for the feasts, on the condition that the remains of the carcasses, namely the hearts of the cold-blooded beasts, be brought as an offering to the god for his blessing and protection for another year. The culling kept the crocodile numbers at a maintainable level and gave the river residents a sense of relief and safety. Fewer crocodiles meant fewer attacks. By offering the hearts of Sobek's kin to the temple, satisfied the hunger of the god, thus preventing him from sending his crocodilian servants to the cities and towns along the river, where they claimed the lives of many children, women, farmers, fishermen and traders. When there was an increase in fatal attacks in one year, it was said to be an omen that the god was displeased with the offerings of the previous inundation, and as a result was hungering for more. Thus, the best fleets in Egypt were sent out to hunt the largest and most renowned man-eaters to sacrifice their hearts to the Devourer for a safe passage through the year.

Vegeta observed the festivities from the deck of his galley, Kakarott along side him. They watched the supervision of the butchers and skinners as they delicately separated the tough hide from the meat of over a hundred corpses. Once the skinners had removed the hide completely, they passed it to the tanners of the army. The strong material would be tanned for the use in more military armour for the recruits. The butcher removed the heart and placed it on a scale for weighing, the Official scribes recorded the weight and size, along with the appearance of the crocodile, which was documented before the skinners had begun their line of work. The meat was then butchered from the bodies and handed out among the masses to be cooked in the various bonfires that lined the beach.

A jug of three-palm brew, on of the hundreds supplied by the Vizier from Pharaoh, was shared eagerly between the two men aboard the galley.

"Who is she? This girl that you 'pine' for?" Vegeta asked, breaking the long silence between them. The sun was sinking in the horizon and the second jug of brew was nearly empty.

"A very pretty thing, she is… with eyes that even Isis herself would envy. Dark hair, and very long… it flows like the Nile at night and her smile is brighter than Amun-Ra's sun disk," sighed his comrade. A dreamy expression fell upon his face; the alcohol had some influence on his state of mind already. Vegeta chuckled; a rich sound from within his chest.

"You have had more than you can handle, ey? Well then, before you forget in your state of stupor, what is the name of this women who obviously has ensnared your senses?" Kakarott displayed a tipsy smile, a glimmer of amusement apparent in his half glazed eyes.

"I know not her name," he stammered, "nor have I ever spoken to her. But," he continued swayingly as he stood up of unsteady legs, a full jug in hand, "but I know her well enough to know that I love her and would jump in fields of paradise… flying onwards on the wings of a honk… hawnk… haw…"

"A hawk," Vegeta finished, but there was no reply. He turned to find that his friend had fallen off the deck onto the boardwalk with a wooden plonk as his head hit with the force of his weight. He leaned over the railing and admired the strength of Kakarott's thick skull. He lay passed out in a drunken grace, his legs splayed; luckily his schenti remained in a conservative arrangement. Vegeta smirked. It was safe for him to leave his brother-in-arms to awake on his own accord. It was unwise to move a drunken man from the place where he lay, for confusion destroyed all sense of direction once they had awoken in new circumstances.

With a light step, Vegeta made his way along the near empty streets of Thebes to the many taverns that offered the best sweet meats, ample wines and beer and good-humoured entertainment. There were still numerous hours yet until Amun-Ra displayed his beaming disk on the distant horizon.

_More to come _

_Hope that you enjoyed the read so far, I promise to update to this chapter as soon as I can type it up. For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Schenti- **a pleated kilt of linen. It was usually knotted at the waist.  
**Horus- **one of the main deities in Upper and Lower Egypt. Son of Osiris and Isis and God of the sky, he avenges Osiris's death by killing his brother, Seth.  
**Wounded Eye of Horus-** a powerful amulet. Horus, in one of the battles with Seth, had his left eye wounded (it represents the moon, thus giving meaning to the different phases of the moon).  
**Kush**- also called _Ta-seti_ and _Wawat_, the African land far to the south of Egypt (Nubia), below the first Cataract; it was an area of trade. Egyptian pottery and stone was traded for ivory, gold, ebony, ostrich feathers and eggs, copper, amethyst, leopard skins, cattle, oils etc.  
**Sobek**- crocodile-headed god of the Nile. He was said to be the beast that devoured the hearts of the evil and unjust souls when they were weighed against Anubis's scales in the Underworld and did not pass.  
**Isis**- a goddess and mother of the god Horus, wife and sister to Osiris.  
**Amun-Ra**- the creator god. A god of the sky and worshipped throughout Egypt and the head of the pantheon (much like Zeus in Greek mythology).

Top of Form

Bottom of Form

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	2. Lady of the Nile

When We Were Gods

**Chapter 2: _Lady of the Nile:_**

The room was crowded by the masses of Egypt's most educated and prestigious wealth. Noble men and women, dressed in their finest, all there in the hope in setting a new trend amongst the glorified ranks of higher class. The women had had their servant girls coiffeur their hair in different styles, beadwork and small amulets hung on the dark tresses. Their garments, elegantly pleated and lined with golden thread, were belted with the tanned leathers on Egypt and encrusted with semi-precious stones and engraved pictures of various deities. Despite all the attention and detail that the noble women had put into their appearance, all eyes were upon the charming lapis-lazuli eyes of the woman that sat beside the Vizier.

Bulma sat perfectly still, much like a statue of a deity of the pantheon. The white ostrich feathers, neatly woven in her distinguishing turquoise hair, came from the far off land of Kush. In the heat of the afternoon they swayed gently with every dip of her head. Her overall appearance was like a manifestation of the goddess, Isis. Under her detached, god-like expression and ethereal look, she was silently screaming out in her melancholy and boredom.

Her uncle, the grand vizier, Menset Ib, had offered her a place at his table to dine with some of the most learned and wealthy in all Egypt. She was, herself, an educated woman and found much delight in the intellectual banter of the nobles. Particularly when there was gossip of the palaces or about Pharaoh. There had been many a heated topic of debate about the rate at which the current Pharaoh was running the wealth of his empire into the building of his mortuary temple and tomb, and in the process loosing the trust of his people as they starved in the streets of the city outside his recently occupied palace in Elephantine. Bulma's thoughts and expectations of the night were short lived. It seemed that because of her presence as a new face to the nobles of Thebes, all felt too awkward to continue with the usual gossip and wit. The musicians and acrobats weren't even tantalizing to watch; such was the state of her ennui, that she didn't recognise the tune of her favourite song until the very end of it was sounded with the rattle of the sistrum.

Bulma had come from a wealthy family from Egypt, but her childhood was spent in the far lands close to Babylon. Her mother was a fair-haired woman of Tjemehu decent; many Egyptian women envied her unique beauty. Her gift to her only child was the same, if not more vivid, beauty and uniqueness. Bulma's father was a smart and well-educated man. He was a proud Egyptian who worked on behalf of his brother-in-law, grand vizier, Menset Ib, and the Pharaoh in trade and communication with the civilizations of Mesopotamia. The royal scribes, sent by Pharaoh to record his achievements and the amount of bullion he collected from Mesopotamia's royal traders, often documented his work.

She had not lost touch of her traditions through those years away from her homeland. Her parents celebrated all the Egyptian festivals and had taken her down to the Nile at the age of fourteen to acknowledge her coming-of-age before returning back to Babylon. It was when her mother died that her father felt it was time for her to return to Egypt, the country of her birth and mother of her culture. He accompanied Bulma and her mother's funeral caravan to the waters of the Nile and then along with the funerary flotilla down to the Necropolis. Once there, Bulma was met by her uncle, and he took her under his wing when her father returned to his duties in Babylon after his wife's funerary rights and burial in a tomb that had been built as far back as Bulma could remember.

Menset Ib immediately offered her a place in his household as a guest and a welcome relation. She remained there for the seven months of mourning, locked in her quarters in the zenana. The dinning invitation was the first time she had met fellow Egyptians outside her mother's funeral rights and the zenana, besides her uncle and the female servants that were assigned to her on her arrival.

Boredom finally getting the best of her, Bulma leaned towards her uncle's chair. Menset Ib noticed her stirring and unease, leaning in closer to her, he knew that she wanted his attention and was waiting for him to be within audible range of her.

"Uncle, I wish to take my leave. I am weary and long for my comfort from prying eyes," she spoke in her most formal tongue. Menset Ib frowned at the request; it was still early in the evening.

"My dear daughter, it is too early to bid your leave of my table, is it not?" he announced and seeing the disappointment on her face quickly added, "But seeing as though you have had a trying year, I shall let you go to the zenana." Bulma beamed up at him, she loved it when he called her 'daughter' like a doting father. He averted his gaze from her captivating blue to face the crowded room as he addressed them, nodding to each of the important members in turn.

"Good brothers and sisters of our Mother, _Khemet_. My niece, Bulma of the far city of Babylon, beloved by her patron goddess, Hathor, and a fellow Egyptian, will take her leave of our company for the night." He raised his flask of _heneket_ beer in a toast and looked down on Bulma beside him, smiling with adoration of the young woman. "May she dream of a thousand wealths and own a thousand slaves and more. Her company shall be sorely missed at night's length." The crowd cheered their good-byes to Bulma and drank their _heneket_. Menset Ib turned around in his seat to face one of the slave boys waiting on the party.

"Bring me Sefnet to escort Lady Bulma to the zenana."

"Uncle," she intervened, "I would like to go with an escort of my choosing. I would much like to be accompanied by my childhood-friend, ChiChi. I feel more familiar with her than Sefnet."

"Very well." He turned back to the slave boy, "Bring Sefnet to me anyway, with an order for more vials of my three palm brew to top our drinks. This crowd is not nearly merry enough."

Bulma stood up and casually stepped out of the busy room towards the zenana. ChiChi, the servant girl who had been sitting behind Bulma moved to follow her. Bulma abruptly brushed her off.

"Come now, ChiChi, you need not be so proper around me. We grew up together in Thebes before my family travelled to Mesopotamia. Come stand beside me as a friend of many years than as a servant girl of Menset Ib's household. I shall take full responsibility should you be questioned about you informality towards me." ChiChi smiled warmly at her old friend's invitation. It had been many years since she last saw Bulma. They had written to each other every month and sent the papyrus scraps with their brief letters with the scribes as they travelled to and from Egypt and Mesopotamia. ChiChi was the daughter of a scribe under the conduct of Bulma's father and then, when her family moved to Babylon, ChiChi's father was under the conduct of Menset Ib. Thus ChiChi was a very bright and intelligent woman, like Bulma, her only issue was her rank as a servant in the Menset Ib household.

"Remember when we would skip hand-in-hand down the banks of the Nile or place frogs in the zenana's water flasks?"

"Oh yes, Bulma, I remember what fun we had," replied ChiChi with a cheerful giggle, "I have often thought of those memories, at least a thousand time over." The pair of women wandered off into the many gardens of the household hand-in-hand, chatting about all sorts of things from who the wealthy were at the banquette and who were planning on becoming rich through inheritance – to what they thought the best colour was to paint the zenana.

It was much later before Bulma was ready to turn in for the night. As a rule to the women of nobility and class, the servant girl was meant to sleep at the foot of the bed, so as to awake early and prepare the garments for the next day or in case there was a problem during the night. Bulma, in her stubbornness and determination to ignore her higher rank than her dear friend's, would not allow ChiChi to sleep on the floor, but helped her prepare a second bed, not as grand as Bulma's, but certainly more comfortable than the floor.

Again, the pair was up as they lay in their bed and spoke of more bits going on around the port of Thebes. It wasn't until the early mourning haze of light before they fell asleep in mid-sentence.

* * *

_More to come _

_There you go, the second chapter is up and running. I just hope that you enjoy it as much as you did the first. Sorry about the delay too _(--;).  
_For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Kush**- also called _Ta-seti_ and _Wawat_, the African land far to the south of Egypt, below the first Cataract, it was an area of trade. Egyptian pottery and stone was traded for ivory, gold, ebony, ostrich feathers and eggs, copper, amethyst, leopard skins, cattle, oils etc.  
**Zenana**- the area of a household that was soley for the women. Men could not enter this area of the household, sometimes eunuchs were hired in place of slave girls to work in the zenana.(aka:_per-khenret _in ancient Egyptian).  
**Heneket**- a popular drink in ancient Egypt made from barley - fermented into beer.  
**Sistrum**- a musical instrument associated with the goddess, Hathor. The head of Hathor or the horns of a cow were often depicted on the instrument design.  
**Hathor**- the goddess depicted as a sacred cow with the sun-disc between her horns or as a woman with the sun-disc centred a pair of cow's horns. In most circumstances, it is said that she was also the goddess, Sekhmet, a lion-headed goddess of strife and revenge, employed by the god Ra / Amun-Rato punish his enemies. As Hathor, however, she was the complete opposite, calm, gentle and serene.  
**Khemet**- the ancient Egyptian word for "Egypt" or "Our Land".  
**Tjemehu**- a culture of Libyans, they were blonde haired and lived along the western borders of Egypt in many eras.  
**Vizier**- the priminister of all Egypt - held in high respect, second to Pharaoh.  
**Pharaoh**- the King of Egypt.


	3. A Follower of Ra

_When We Were Gods_

**Chapter 3: _A Follower of Ra_**

The smell of sodden linen and stale beer clung like a thick cloud in the midday air. The groans of mean and women came as each awoke from their previous drunken night, bellies full of alcohol and crocodile meat. The beaches were a-wash of limp bodies with their upturned bloated bellies to the cloudless sky, a sea of lazy, half-sober hippopotami. They awoke, one after the other, where they had fallen. Some were sprawled across others, while some lay half way up the beach, covered in sand that stuck to their damp linen clothing, making them part of the beach's landscape. A few lay with their bodies in the cool waters of the harbour or hung over the railing of walls and galleys.

Kakarott awoke with the sour smell of beer over his schenti and nursing a mild headache. Sorrowfully, he gathered himself up steadily, pulling with one hand on a wooden beam, while the other cradled his pounding head. He groaned with the effort of the energy needed to stand and the attempt in remembering what had happened to him that previous night. It was a while before he could stand on his own volition without the aid of the beam. He squinted in the bright light, scanning the beach. He finally found what he was looking for. Slowly, staggeringly, he weaved his way around the mass of passed-out bodies, stepping on a few when he lost his balance sending semi-conscious groans out from the limp human outlines. He stopped in front of a rounded, bald man dressed in a long robe made from pure white linen.

"Holy brethren of Ra," he exclaimed as he fell heavily to his knees in dramatic display, clutching the bottom of the man's robe. The man turned to face the kneeling soldier, a smile crept across his face when he recognised the regimental uniform and the look of desperation on Kakarott's face.

"Are you a follower of Ra? Our divine God of Creation, the Head of the Pantheon and Creator of all you see before you?"

"Yes. Ra is great!" Kakarott responded as he saluted the sun with a thump from a clenched fist to his breastplate.

"_Bak-her!_" called the priest in approval. "What may a follower of the Divine Ra wish to ask upon a Holy worshipper? Blessing, perhaps? We do not often hear from soldiers. War can destroy a man's belief in the Pantheon, we will gladly absolve you of your past sins?"

"I pray for a vial of Shepen to soothe my head of ill djinn in the Holy name of the Father, Ra, the Shepherd of our people?"

"Ra appointed the priesthood with the Red Shepen to comfort the pain of his kin. Thus, as you are a Son of Ra like I, the vial at my waist shall soothe and protect you from the evil djinn you say cause you ill."

"May you be truly rewarded by your kindness, Holy one." Kakarott took the small clay vial from the priest's open hand and drank deeply from its lip. The properties of the Shepen were at work in a short span of time. The throb in his head slowly died and became a mere shadow of its former self, a dull ache.

Walking back to the galley, Kakarott heard the rich, deep-throated laughter of a man. Looking about him he was met with the dark eyes of Vegeta standing atop the bridge of the galley.

"I saw what you did to the priest from the Temple of Ra!" he called down to the upturned face of his comrade.

Kakarott smiled broadly, "They are so gullible, they make it too easy."

"You think it wise to lie to the pantheon? I know that you are a Horus man, like myself. Not a man of Ra. I am surprised that during your lie to the Holy man that Ra didn't send Sekhmet to strike you down. Ra would surely send her to destroy your unholy soul," his tone was serious. Vegeta's scowl soon turned into a contented smirk and he let out a bellow of booming laughter.

"When Sekhmet arrives I want to be the first to know. Seeing you get thrashed by a Goddess would be a treat, even more sweeter the entertainment, if I could be invited to join in the beating of your sorry, lying hide."

Kakarott remained cheery as if all that his comrade had said was of no concern to him. His expression softened and he became solemn once Vegeta's laughter had subsided. Straightening up, he brushed aside the humour for the moment and went onto other pressing matters.

"What are we to do in the time we have in Thebes? Some of the men lost their swords overboard from the hunt, many arrows have been spent and the galley supplies have been exhausted." In response, Vegeta nodded his head as he considered each of the issues, a stern expression upon his face.

"We shall need more supplies, that is true." Vegeta thought aloud. "On my way back to the fleet, I met most of the Guards of Horus. I have immediately appointed Horem, Antef and Remu-tep to lead teams of twenty men each in preparing the supplies for the galleys. So that has been done."

"And what about restocking the weapons?" asked Kakarott inquisitively. He marvelled at the swiftness of his friend at times. Vegeta always seemed to have things under control before it was even thought to be an issue.

"As for the rest of them," Vegeta replied, "I will assemble an escort to negotiate artillery agreements with the Vizier. Rumour in Thebes has it that he knows of a master blacksmith."

"Shall I arrange a meeting for this afternoon?" inquired Kakarott.

"Make it as soon as possible, Kakarott, but for only you and I to meet with the Vizier. The escort can guard the passage to the room; I want no one to interrupt our negotiations. He can be a very parsimonious man. Clear?"

"Perfectly, Vegeta."

The pair strode off in opposite directions. Vegeta, approaching the streets of Thebes in search of the remaining entourage of the Guards of Horus, while Kakarott made for the Vizier's household in the western populace of the city, an air of importance in his stride.

* * *

_More to come _

_Well, that's the end of chapter three. Please, enjoy the read.  
For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Schenti- **a pleated kilt of linen. It was usually knotted at the waist.  
**Horus- **one of the main dieties in upper and lower Egypt. Son of Osiris and Isis and God of the sky, he avenges Osiris's death by killing his brother, Seth.  
**Red Shepen- **the word shepen or shepenen from the medical papyri of ancient Egypt refer to the poppy and opium poppy.  
**Ra / Amun-Ra**- the creator god. A god of the sun andsky and worshipped throughout Egypt and the head of the pantheon (much like Zeus in Greek mythology).


	4. Beloved, thy Isis

_When We Were Gods_

**Chapter 4: _Beloved, thy Isis_**

Bulma awoke in her cool room, amongst her childhood trinkets and freshly folded linen. The air was still and quiet. She wondered how long she had slept. Remembering Chi Chi, she turned on her bed to peer over the side to where her young friend had slept. The linen was neatly folded and placed in an area out of the way, in a corner near the arched door way. There was no sign of her friend, except for the fresh garments that had been draped over a low stool. They had been neatly pressed and delicately placed for Bulma to wear that morning. Despite Bulma's disapproval of rank, Chi Chi still maintained her servant role in the Household of the Vizier. Bulma sometimes forgot that Chi Chi did not 'belong' to her alone, but had other duties and arrangements to make for other members in the Household.

Feeling alone and in a miasma of sleep-infused daze, she stepped carefully out of her low-lying reed bedding and began to undress. Gathering up a bundle of discoloured linen, she walked towards a small room connecting to her bed room. She stopped in front of a large tub with the appearance of polished granite. Stepping into it, Bulma was pleasantly surprised to find that the water inside was heated sufficiently. Chi Chi must have awoken many hours before her to walk down to the open well on the Nile River at the front of the grand estate, where the river passed along the garden banks and gathered in the man-made purpose-built well. She would have taken the full urns of Nile water to the kitchens to be heated be the fires of open clay ovens, and then carry the urns on a thick pole to Bulma's on-suite bathing room.

Bulma felt appalled by this thought. She felt so inadequate knowing the lengths that Chi Chi would go to please her and to maintain her uncle's graces. It was an enormous task, lugging up urn after urn filled will boiling water to all the rooms in the zenana, and then to the private quarters of the Vizier's. She had to admire her friend; she truly was an amazing person in many ways. May the Gods bless her with the glories of life and the awaiting Paradise, she thought.

Not wanting to call for any servants in her compassion, (they would be busily going about their daily chores) Bulma bathed herself. She never once called on the aid of a servant in her bathing, which was a private time for her; she believed in permitting the servants time to relax as well. The thought of relying solely on someone to serve her had been ludicrous in Bulma's opinion even as a young child. Now a grown young woman, not much had changed in the way she thought of the use of servants and slaves.

She stood up slowly, reluctant to leave the warmth of the water, and slid out of the tub. She dried herself down with the faded linen bundle that she had brought in the bathing room with her. Unfolding the pale green garments that had been meticulously folded and pressed, Bulma wrapped the longest sheet of the material around her waist. Picking up the second smaller piece of green linen, she gathered two of the corners and tied them loosely around her waist. The other two corners that hung she tied them around her neck, covering her breasts in the semi-transparent material. The halter hung low on her and she had to adjust it twice more before she was satisfied in her appearance.

Once happy with her dress, she sat on the stool in front of her vanity desk and used a small wooden comb to brush out the tangles in her thick, turquoise hair. Half way through brushing, Chi Chi arrived in the door way to Bulma's room. She approached Bulma with a mystified gape apparent on her face. She gasped, catching Bulma's full attention. Turning quickly, Bulma smiled cheerfully and putting the comb aside, she embraced her friend. Chi Chi, still in shock, embraced her mistress and held her at arm's length, studying every detail of Bulma's rare beauty.

"You look like the incarnation of one of the pantheon," she gasped, finally finding her words. Bulma blushed and twirled for Chi Chi to get a better look at her dress.

"This style? This is beautiful! Where in all the wonders created did you get the idea to do this?"

"It's my mother's design. She was always so elegant when she dressed and she embraced difference. She called it 'the Dress of the Goddess'."

"This style will become the rage in Egypt, Bulma. You look more radiant than Ra's sun disc and twice as lovely as fair Isis."

The dress hung onto her body with the soft grace of a gentle wind. The colour exaggerated Bulma's blue eyes and defined her exquisite hair. It was the best colour of choice Chi Chi made. She felt a sense of pride in what she did as a servant girl, and seeing the joy and life in Bulma spark and burn, kept her satisfied with her work in life.

"Come, Bulma," she spoke, breaking the silence with a touch of her hand on the half tangled mess of her friend's hair. "Let's get this nest fixed; I have something special to show you afterwards."

It did not take the two women long to style each other's hair. They were soon finished, each with an exceptional hair style. Bulma pleaded with Chi Chi to tell her what she was going to show her. Chi Chi merely giggled triumphantly – she was savouring the moment. It wasn't every day that she had the upper hand on Bulma.

Placing their leather sandals on outside the room, in the zenana hallway, Bulma sulked after giving up her futile questioning. Chi Chi led her down the hallway and past the other various rooms of the zenana. She pulled a small strip of linen out of her garments and turned around to meet the eyes of Bulma, amusement evident in her own features.

"I promised on my life and on my eternal travel to the Paradise, that I would keep this a surprise for you. Having that said, I hope that you understand and will agree to me placing this over your eyes?"

Bulma inclined her head, her expression puzzled and questioning. She wasn't sure of the way Chi Chi was acting, but she knew better than to reject the offer, after all, she had placed her life and Afterlife on the line.

"Very well, cover my eyes, but only my eyes. I am not in the mood to be embalmed prematurely as a jest." Chi Chi tied the strip over her eyes and gently led her by the hand down the rest of the long hallway. They stopped so abruptly that Bulma almost fell over on top of Chi Chi.

Chi Chi brought Bulma forward and placed her hands on an undersized wooden table. Running her hands along the length of the surface as direction, she searched blindly for an object she didn't know of what shape, texture, or of which sense to use. Her left hand bumped into something hard, and on further inspection, square in shape.

"May I take my cover off now, or have I not found the 'something' that you wanted to show me?"

"You've found it!" squealed Chi Chi in her excitement. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from yelling out guidance to Bulma's wandering hands. Bulma tugged onto the strip of linen that bound her eyes. It fell lightly to the floor. She blinked her eyes as they adjusted to the bright light. They had stepped out into one of the Household gardens, and stood in the shaded pavilion, sheltered by a large canvas covering. The table before her was a small, well decorated, outdoor table. Where her left hand still lay, was a small pottery box.

On closer examination, the box had intricate paintings of beautiful women dressed in noble-wear. On the lid was the goddess, Hathor, with her arms outstretched in a warm welcome the sun disc between her sacred cow horns illuminated with its own light.

"Oh please, Lady Bulma! Open up the gift box, or I shall surely burst with sheer suspense and excitement," Chi Chi's voice broke through the stunned silence and jolted Bulma's curiosity even further.

There was a clicking of pottery as she removed the lid from the box. Turning the lid over, she found an inscription engraved into it. She read it quietly to herself and once finished, glanced up at Chi Chi, who expressed her eagerness for Bulma to share the message. Bulma nodded, took in a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"_My dear desert flower,_

_It pains me, your uncle, to see_

_his lovely flower wilt in the_

_harsh desert sun._

_I hope this gift will bring about_

_a spark of life into this young_

_desert bloom of rare beauty."_

Chi Chi gently handled the pottery lid and read it for herself. She clutched the lid in both hands and re-read the hieroglyphs, making sure that she didn't misread anything. One wrong interpretation of a single glyph would make the whole message wrong, and mean something completely different.

True to what Bulma had read out and to what she had read, the inscription could have meant nothing else. Satisfied with the interpretation, Chi Chi questioned herself as to whether the cartouche imprinted at the bottom was the Vizier's. It was smudged and a single hieroglyph had an extra image. She found this odd, but it was not uncommon for Menset-Ib to sign his cartouche and smudging it in a tired state. He was a very busy man, and it was not unlike him to sign late into the night. The misprint of the single hieroglyph could be due to the smudge or even the bubbles in the pottery lid. She brushed it off and looked over to Bulma once again.

There was a flash of gold gleaming reflection so bright and intense that Chi Chi had to mask her eyes from the sheer glare of it. Contained in both Bulma's hands lay a length of thick gold chain, brighter than that of the sun's early morning rays. Chi Chi's mouth gaped wide with the sight of such a beautifully crafted chain.

Bulma lifted the gold chain completely out of the box to examine it more closely. On the end of the chain, swinging like a weighted pendulum, was an enormous teardrop-shaped precious stone, the colour of the deepest blue of the Nile. "Oh my… in all the pantheon… ," she managed the whisper. Chi Chi reached out her right hand to rest it on Bulma's shoulder, stepping forward as she did to get a better view of the pendant now clasped in Bulma's hands.

"It is Lapis Lazuli," Chi Chi found her voice. The stone was exquisitely cut and engraved with the images of lotus beds, of water fowl in full flight and of a single woman dressed with a simple linen garment, her arms clasping in them the _ankh_ and _sistrum_. Atop her head rested the sacred cow's horns and round disc floating in the centre. Her garment, _ankh_, _sistrum_, and headdress were ornately covered with gold leaf. The goddess seemed to be breathing life into the stone on which she was engraved.

"It is my patron goddess, Hathor, the mother of my destiny and my sole consort," breathed Bulma, tears of sanctified awe welling up in her azure eyes. She stroked the gold-set edges of the Lapis Lazuli teardrop, tracing each figure of the depiction it encompassed.

"It is truly lovely, Lady Bulma." Bulma concentrated on her dear friend's face, "Yes, Chi Chi, it is exquisite. But there is something more I can feel on the back of this pendant." Bulma turned the pendant over, revealing the inscribed backing. "Can you see here, the problem with this treasure?"

Chi Chi's eyes traced the glyphs on the stone, reading aloud, more to herself than to Bulma.

_"Beloved, thy Isis,_

_May you live forever!"_

She regarded this for a while longer, and finally uttered her understanding of the problem, "But this dedicates the necklace to Isis, not Hathor who is depicted on the stone."

Bulma simply nodded her head in agreement. "I could feel the indentations of the glyphs, they did not have the goddess Hathor mentioned," she replied. "It is most peculiar that I should receive a gift from my uncle with contradicting dedications. For that matter, I doubt the authenticity of this piece, as it holds too many questions around it."

"What do you wish to do about it, Bulma?" The two women regarded one another for a while, both uncertain in what actions to take, or whether they would be too forward to voice them. Bulma broke the lengthy silence.

"Is my uncle in the estate at this moment? I wish to have audience with him. This must be brought to his attention before Ra's disc touches the western hills. Perhaps he may shed some light as to the misprint of this ornament, maybe even provide a definite answer."

Chi Chi merely nodded curtly, and taking the necklace from her mistress' hands, she placed the pendant and chain into the bundle of linen which lined the bottom of the box and covered it with the pottery lid. "We shall find him now, My Lady."

* * *

_More to come _

_There you have it; the fourth chapter is now officially up. Sorry once again about the delay too _(--;).

_This chapter is dedicated to my friend, the late Grant Bruce Thompson (1987-2005), who was my inspirational editor and confidant in all things involved in the writing of this story. I wish him well, and hope he found his Paradise. I love and miss him with all my heart._  
_For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Zenana**- the area of a household that was solely for the women. Men could not enter this area of the household, sometimes eunuchs were hired in place of slave girls to work in the zenana. (aka: _per-khenret _in ancient Egyptian).  
**Sistrum**- a musical instrument associated with the goddess, Hathor. The head of Hathor or the horns of a cow were often depicted on the instrument design.  
**Hathor**- the goddess depicted as a sacred cow with the sun-disc between her horns or as a woman with the sun-disc centred a pair of cow's horns. In most circumstances, it is said that she was also the goddess, Sekhmet, a lion-headed goddess of strife and revenge, employed by the god Ra / Amun-Ra to punish his enemies. As Hathor, however, she was the complete opposite, calm, gentle and serene.  
**Isis**- a goddess and mother of the god Horus, wife and sister to Osiris.  
**Amun-Ra or Ra**- the creator god. A god of the sky and worshipped throughout Egypt and the head of the pantheon (much like Zeus in Greek mythology). He was associated with the sun, and believed to control its path across the sky, resting in the west at the end of each day, which was considered to be where the Fields of Paradise reside and where the gods themselves lived.


	5. Law of Ma'at: All Abiding Truth

_When We Were Gods_

**Chapter 5: _Law of Ma'at - All Abiding Truth _**

He was nervous. The feeling permeated through his diminutive body and made his legs tremble uncontrollably. His thoughts were frenzied. Stay or run, defend or hide? What could he do? What should he do? Oh, why was it that the Gods felt displeased with him? He had been to the resident temples in Thebes and Luxor/Karnak, and provided adequate offerings that he could afford on his meagre salary. He was young and full of life; he still had so much to offer to Egypt and to the pantheon.

The two armoured men that sat in front of him made him uneasy. They had a sense of power and authority over him. He dared not displease them, especially the shorter on the pair. Something stirred in his mind, telling him to be extra careful as to not disappoint the officer with the stern appearance.

The beads of sweat dripped from his fingers and splashed silently onto the tiled flooring of the large and modestly furnished room. Despite the wealth of his employer, the meeting room was furnished to the bare minimum. A large cedar table stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by five stools with reed matting as cushioning. The larger of the stools was placed on the opposite side of the table, facing the remaining four. This was allocated for the high-ranking dignitary, to which the household belonged to and to whom the young, trembling servant boy served with utmost loyalty.

"When will your master be joining us?" asked one of the officers.

"He is a very busy man, sir. I assure you that he will meet you the moment he has time."

"We arranged a meeting with the Vizier earlier this morning. I expected to see him prepared and ready for our arrival with the swiftness and urgency that we required. Why has he not been here to greet myself and my fellow officer?" demanded the stern-faced man.

"You must understand, sir. He, my master, the Vizier Menset Ib, is very…"

"I don't want your petty excuses, boy! Send for your master right this moment, or I shall send you to him in a blooded bundle from Seth himself!" the soldier bellowed.

In a startled jump like a newly lamb, the servant boy scarpered from his standing position and leapt for the open archway. He fled through the half drawn canvas curtains and sprinted as fast as his lithe legs could carry him. Tears streaming across his face, he had no idea where he was going or what direction he had taken. He just wanted to get away. Away from the frightening soldier.

* * *

Bulma walked briskly, closely followed by her servant girl and close friend, Chi Chi. She wished to have an audience with her uncle, Menset Ib. There was a pressing matter about a certain gift that was troubling her and her young friend. This would be her first informal meeting with her uncle. 

Hidden in mourning for many months, she hadn't had the right train of mind to speak to people, not even her uncle. During that time of mourning her mother's passing, she barely ate nor took care of herself. If not for the love and friendship in Chi Chi, she doubted that her sanity would have lasted. Chi Chi had come in and taken charge of Bulma's life. She brought fresh linen every day, helping her dress, bathe and feed. She would talk to Bulma for hours on end, sometimes without a word from the turquoise haired woman. Bulma knew that she wouldn't have made it out of her state of mourning without the aid of the spirited woman, and to that she held their friendship even closer to her heart.

Her walk became more rapidly paced. She was determined to speak with her uncle before he went about his daily dealings in Thebes and the neighbouring provinces. Chi Chi kept up the pace, making sure not to dawdle behind her mistress. She was so engrossed in making sure she didn't fall behind, that without warning she hadn't had the time to move out of the way when Bulma fell back onto her.

They fell with such force; Chi Chi was so sure that what had caused the fall was other-worldly. She lay on the floor with Bulma sprawled out on top of her. The young woman was lifted up within the second. Chi Chi was left to lift herself up. She felt miffed, but knew that Bulma had a higher class advantage over herself, thus none of the servants would help her to her feet unless they were lower ranking than she. The voice of a terrified child was all that she could hear.

"What is the meaning of this… this action, boy?" asked Lady Bulma. She had been helped up by the servant who had run straight into her at such a speed, but now wanted an explanation. The boy had tears streaming down his face; it had smeared his thinly kohl-lined eyes, leaving slight grey-black rivers in their wake.

"I… I… beg my p… par… pardon, Mistress." The boy spoke in hurried gasps and sobs; he had been running hard and his fear was still raw. Bulma looked at the pathetic child and took great pity in his pleas for her forgiveness.

"What is you name, child?"

"It's… it's Khu…, Lady of the House."

"Khu," she repeated, "That is a lovely name; it means 'Protected', does it not?"

"Ye… yes, Mistress," replied Khu, his sobs still dominating his speech. He mustn't be any older than eleven or twelve, thought Bulma. She kneeled in front of the boy to look at him eye to eye at his level.

"You need not be afraid, as your name suggests, you are protected. Now, Khu, I want you to calm down, and then tell me slowly, what has happened to you to make you so frightened." Khu nodded, feeling uncomfortable with the beauty of the Lady Bulma in front of him, not fearing the inadequacy of his class or role in the Household. Chi Chi feltchildish andashamed. Ashamed that she didn't react fast enough to catch her mistress's fall. She felt irritable and annoyed at Khu. It was definitely his fault that Bulma had fallen. But her mistress did not seem to be hurt in anyway. Perhaps her fall had been cushioned by herself? She wasn't sure, but she gradually abandoned her disapproval of the young servant boy, despite her earlier thoughts.

Khu had calmed down sufficiently and his sobs had faded. Bulma sat down upon a low cedar stool in the foyer. She gestured for Chi Chi to sit down on the seat next to her and for young Khu to sit by her feet. The boy smiled gratefully for the offer. It was a privilege to sit at the feet of a servant's mistress.

"Khu," she began, "What had you so frightened?"

"There are two soldiers in the great hall, Mistress. They wish to speak with Mistress's uncle, the Vizier, Menset Ib. I was told to tell them that he was busy and could not see them at the present time…"

"And then what happened?" asked Chi Chi, she was now fully engrossed in Khu's tale, much to the surprise of the young boy.

"Well, they were not permitted to see the Vizier earlier this morning. Setef told them to leave and come back another day. But they came back and brought with them many more soldiers."

"Do you know what rank they are, Khu?" Khu was hesitant, he felt ridiculous and embarrassed. He had not thought of it nor even looked.

"No, Mistress… please forgive me. I did not know to look for such details, they were forceful and they scared me."

Bulma smiled comfortingly, "I forgive you once more."

"What did they do to you?" enquired Chi Chi, now wriggling in her suspense. She wasn't always good at be a patient servant.

"They pushed me towards the great hall and demanded that I call on the Vizier. I went to ask, but was told by Setef that the Vizier would see no one. I returned to the great hall and offered them a few refreshments then advised them to come back another day. One of the soldiers lost his temper. He yelled at me and threatened to cut me up and send me as a package from Seth to the Vizier if I did not get him." He looked nervously about him and made the sign against the evil eye.

"Then I ran from the hall and kept running until…"

"Yes, until you ran into the Lady Bulma," stated Chi Chi.

"Try not to make a scene of the past, dear Chi Chi. It was not Khu's fault, and if it were you, it wouldn't have been your fault either. I appreciate your concern for me, but I assure you, I was not hurt and I do not blame you, or Khu." Chi Chi nodded her understanding.

"As for the soldiers, we shall see about the appropriate way to go about it. Where would my uncle be at this time of the day?"

"In the scroll room," announced both Khu and Chi Chi.

* * *

Menset Ib sat amongst generations of notes made by previous viziers dating back to the humble beginnings of Egypt's first dynasty. There was an assortment of documents, mathematical equations and various diagrams of objects, places and blueprints of houses, farms, temples and palaces. There were piles of papyri stacked on a single wall-length table, each in need of being catalogued and signed off by the Vizier as legitimate and granted. Filing wasn't a part of the Vizier's job description, but on a personal level, Menset Ib hated clutter. He scowled in his disappointment. The librarian he had hired earlier that year had been slacking off and taking more and more days off for sick leave and his tales of procrastination were becoming tiresome. He had not wanted to hire someone with whom he had never worked with nor knew on a personal level. He had hoped to find a suitable scribe or young priest seeking a well payed educational job, but was unfortunate in his slim pickings. Most of the scribes wanted to set out for themselves and the young priests preferred the sanctity of the temples, in addition, all knew of the Vizier's meticulous reputation with disorder. 

He had dismissed the lazy librarian from his archives and had informed him that his pay for the last month would not be arranged. The dismissing of the disgruntled worker had turned out to be the fault. The Vizier realised his mistake too late, and by that time the damage had been done. Rumours were the bane of his life and career; especially the rumours that circulated throughout Egypt, amongst the peasant and nobles.

The most recent had come to him late the previous night during his banquet. A loyal colleague had informed him of a recent misunderstanding involving the Vizier plotting and scheming behind the back of the Pharaoh. Apparently, the colleague had heard this from his head chef, who in turn, had heard it from a relative of the disgruntled employee. The rumour in question was circulating around the Vizier using the Pharaoh's gold for his own benefit and paying off illegal merchants for their goods, most of which were items from the far off land of Kush and would have been sold to the palaces for decoration in Pharaoh's many abodes. Another rumour which had been linked to this was that the Vizier was secretly using a highly skilled blacksmith in making him gold adornments and objects to decorate himself and his house. Items in the form of swords and armour were mentioned and this had a negative impact on the people who heard it from the rumour mill, indicating that the Vizier planned a rebellion.

Stealing was considered to be just as bad as murder, and stealing from Pharaoh was high treason. Menset Ib could not afford to have Pharaoh suspect him as a betrayer. He had worked for him for most of his reign, showing many signs of promise in the maintenance of Egypt. He did not wish to fall from the graces of the King, now that he had a family to support in their time of need. He had to think of his niece's future, what would she think if he was unjustly convicted as a thief and responsible for the destruction of an empire's, and its King's royalties?

He was frustrated and upset. He would have to plea to Pharaoh as soon as possible to clear his name and then take legal action against the perpetrator, if he would still be in Thebes to track down. He concentrated on the evidence in front of him. It was all the invoices of his purchases in the past two years. He was looking through the items, most being food and beverages. He never touched the royal treasuries, unless under direct orders from Pharaoh. Even then, it was not for his own benefit, but for paying the people onPharaoh's pay role, namely the architects of his temples, the different craftsmen in their work on his funerary tomb and of the funerary goods, and the high nobility who helped the Vizier run the provinces of Upper Egypt.

He had been interrupted by Setef, asking if he would have an audience with a pair of men. He insisted that he was too busy to do anything and was under no circumstances going to take the time to accommodate the men and to send them on their way. She had bowed low and exited quietly. Setef was a reliable servant woman. She had served him for ten years, and was the head of the services in the Household. He admired her approval of his decisions and the authority she demanded from her servants working under her command. He had been fortunate to have her working for him and now he wondered why he didn't leave the filing and cataloguing to her in the first place. Promoting her to his archive librarian would have been the smarter move. In thinking this, he became more frustrated, questioning his judgement of people. He could lose his title as Vizier of Upper Egypt for his poor judgement of people. He lost himself in thought, not noticing the voices growing louder outside his scroll room.

* * *

Bulma stopped outside the large wooden door. She was hesitant now. Would it be unwise for her to speak with her uncle at this busy time? Khu clutched the trail of her linen robe, hiding behind her body, awaiting the results. Chi Chi stood at her side, and gently took her friend's hand in a comforting gesture. She was unsure herself.

"Well, here we go," Bulma murmured, and pushed the door open. It swung heavily and creaked slightly on its hinges. The room was dank and musky. A thin beam of dusty light filtered through the small windows at the tops of the walls. She stepped forward into the room, cautiously at first, making sure it was the right room. She saw the wall-length table with its stacks of papyri. She walked quietly over to the table and looked over the piles and traced the outlines of the hieroglyphs. She was in awe of the contents of the papyri. Some were small journal exerts from Egypt's past nobility. She could smell the ancestry in each sheet of papyri. She loved reading and knowledge, and any papyrus that had the ability to teach her something new was always worth the read.

"An amazing collection is it not?" spoke a voice from the opposite end of the table. Bulma jumped with a start and then recognised the outline of her uncle.

"Yes, it is," she said in reply.

"What brings you here, daughter? If you were looking for the new gardens they are further on, past the ponds."

"I came to see you, uncle. I was informed that you would be in the scroll room."

"Your sources are correct, obviously. Is there anything troubling you, my dear? You left very early last night and I feared that you had caught illness."

"I apologise for my early leave of your banquet. I felt awkward amongst the nobility whom attended."

"My dear girl! It was the nobility who felt awkward with your mere presence. There were many comments about your unique beauty. I was proud to have your company for that brief time." Bulma blushed. Had she really made that impression on the nobility in Thebes?

"There is a grievance I wish to discuss with you, my Lord."

"Hmm," said the Vizier, "By the tone you have adopted, I would gather that this is of a serious matter. What would this grievance concern? I'm sure that it is nothing that I can't fix."

Bulma looked back towards the door where little Khu had his head peeking around the small opening. Menset Ib saw the young servant too, but pretended that he hadn't noticed.

"It is concerning a servant of your Household."

"Has this servant displeased you in some way? If so, Setef can help remedy that. I can have words with her."

"No, uncle! It is nothing of that nature. It is of a grievance I wish to make for a servant in your Household."

"Really, my child? Please, sit on this cushion and enlighten me of the injustice," he said pulling up a small pile of soft cushions and offered them to Bulma as he sat down on a set of cushions himself.

"This servant was harassed by a pair of soldiers in the great hall. The servant is young and vulnerable to bullying by these brutes. He has suffered a great injustice, and from my knowledge, these soldiers are still within the sanctum of the great hall."

Menset Ib took a while to reply. Bulma thought that perhaps he had not heard her correctly.

"Hmm. Yes, I know of these men, but had not been informed on their status. They wished to have an audience with me, did they not? Yes, well, I will not tolerate bullying of servants in my House. This is a law abiding country and my Household is no different. I run my lifein accordance to the Law of Ma'at. And thus, I expect that my Household be run in the same way, being governed by the Goddess of Truth and Justice. I shall see to these soldiers. And send for Setef."

Bulma jumped off her cushioned seat and hugged her uncle. "Thank you, uncle Menset. I am truly grateful."

_

* * *

_

_More to come_

_And thus ends the chronicle of Chapter 5. I must say, I think this is one of my favourites to have written. I hope you think so too. I appreciate all comments and critics, so please do not hesitate to send me a lengthy or short review. I do read them all, and take things into account.  
This chapter's dedication is to my friend, Grant Bruce Thompson (1987-2005)._

"Therefore you have granted that my soul and my shade  
may walk on their feet to the place where this person is  
so that he may stand, sit and walk,  
and enter into his chapel of eternity,  
because I am one of the entourage of Osiris…  
and no god can be created when I am silent."_  
– Book of the Dead  
__  
I am also acutely aware of the fact that Vegeta and Bulma haven't met yet and it's now Chapter 5… well… I assure you that this will occur soon enough. Just hold on tight and enjoy the flow of the Nile. Hahaha!_

_For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Kush**- also called _Ta-seti_ and _Wawat_, the African land far to the south of Egypt (Nubia), below the first Cataract; it was an area of trade. Egyptian pottery and stone was traded for ivory, gold, ebony, ostrich feathers and eggs, copper, amethyst, leopard skins, cattle, oils etc.  
**Seth**- god of chaos, the embodiment of hostility and of outright evil. Hewas alsothe god of war, deserts, storms, and foreign lands. Brother of god,Osiris, andof goddesses,Isis and Nephthys. He was a man with the head of a foreign animal, and sometimes appeared as the foreign animal. Seth can be of good origin too, as he protected the barge of Ra during its nightly journey through the underworld.  
**Papyrus or Papyri**- a paper-like material made from the stems of the papyrus reed. It was a large part ofEgyptian society, as papyri contained all the grand ideas of Egypt's scholars and great minds.  
**Vizier**- the prime minister of all Egypt - held in high respect, second to Pharaoh.  
**Pharaoh**- the King of Egypt.  
**Ma'at**- the goddess of truth and justice, personified order and harmony in the universe. She prevailed over the chaos of the world when first it began. She appeared as a woman with simple dress and a feather atop her head. In the underworld, it was her Feather of Truth which was weighed on the scales with the heart of the deceased. If the heart should prove to be tainted by lies and evil, the feather would prevail and the heart discarded to the beasts.  
**Law of Ma'at**- the law which ruled over all of Egypt, it can be defined as a guideline of government, which even Pharaoh must obey, or the downfall of civilisation would be inevitable.


	6. Half a Papyrus Bloom

_When We Were Gods_

**Chapter 6: Half a Papyrus Bloom**

Menset Ib considered the soldier with forbidding disapproval. "Sharmah!" he greeted, although his manner was less than welcoming. The soldier replied gruffly and seated himself on the low stool in the modestly furnished grand hall. The vizier sat across from him, uneasily aware of the impatient exterior of the soldier.

"Do you care for refreshments?" the vizier offered, his hand gesturing to a pair of waiting servants. The soldier declined respectfully, but thanked him gratefully for the offer. "I have asked to convene with you, My Lord, Vizier of the forty-two _sepats_ of Egypt, Second to Pharaoh, May He Live Forever!, to discuss urgent matters and negotiations," the soldier stated. The vizier motioned to one of the servants who promptly poured a shallow cup of sweet_heneket_ out of a small flask and efficiently served it to his outstretched hands. He regarded the soldier once more.

"What would these 'negotiations' entail…Commander?" He sipped solemnly from the lip of his cup, studying the soldier with mock interest. He was not engrossed in his so called 'negotiations'.

Vegeta acknowledged the hostility, but continued in his description of the matter which he wished to address. "My regiment embarked on the hunt for the sacred Festival of Sobek. In doing so, we have spent most of our weaponry and have sustained some damage to our fleet of galleys."

"I am most grateful for your contribution to the Festival of Sobek, and hope that the god will smile down upon you for your generosity on His sacred day," Menset Ib said, "but, what are you suggesting, Commander?"

"I ask, My Lord, that the galleys be restored to their suitable purposes as fine sailing fleets of Pharaoh and for the spent weaponry to be replaced with that of newer equipment. I feel that our services during the Festival of Sobek were reward enough and we should be obliged to receiving such donations from a high dignitary such as your-self."

Menset Ib lowered his cup, placing it into the awaiting hands of the servant, who quickly shuffled back towards the back of the room where he stood in the gloom and shadows cast by the canvas hangings upon the walls. "You 'ask' me, soldier? I believe that 'ask' is hardly the word for this… this outrage! It was more so a demand upon myself for royalties which I cannot offer and nor shall I condone!" he bellowed, keeping his temper in check as he felt his blood boil over the nerve of the man in front of him. "I cannot pardon your actions, nor your manner towards my servants. You, sir, are the like this Egypt scorns! What is your name and regimental banner?"

"I am Vegeta Akhset, Commander of the Guards of Horus, the Desert Hawks, and begot of Pharaoh's Praise. I do not wish to be lectured about incidents which come out of the mouths of lying slaves!"

"Be that as it may, Commander!" Menset Ib's voice boomed in the meagrely furnished room, "I will not tolerate my servants being threatened by such rabble as yourself. If you have come for negotiations, then you shall be sorely disappointed, soldier of the Desert Hawks! I shall not be bullied by a man of such inferior mentality…"

Kakarott enter the hall in mid-speech of the vizier. His tall figure loomed over the seated men as he made his way to the second stool and prostrated himself before his commander and the Grand Vizier. "Sharmah!" he greeted.

"What is the meaning of this, soldier?" The vizier was taken aback by this interruption, but the soldier seemed remotely familiar.

"My Lord, Grand Vizier Menset Ib, Second to Pharaoh – May He Live Forever!, the Stable Right Hand of the Great God, I am Kakarott Son, Lieutenant, and second in command of the Guards of Horus, the Desert Hawks." Kakarott saluted with a hearty thump of his clenched fist to his breastplate, and took his seat on the low stool beside his Commander.

"That is not my question unto you, Lieutenant. You're interruption is most taxing. What is your purpose, Kakarott of the Guards of Horus? Can this not wait, or are you as impertinent as your Commander?"

"Do you not recognise me, My Lord?" His simple question seemed to have knocked the vizier speechless. The grave look evident on the aged man's face conferred considerable influence to his enquiry. Vegeta leered at Kakarott. What is he up to now, he thought. It was a while later before the vizier could find his words again.

"You are familiar to me, but I do not recall your name." His intense quarrel with Vegeta had been forgotten for the moment. Kakarott beamed. He had thought that the vizier would have forgotten him. He waved over to the servants in the far corner, beckoning them to him. They served him two cups of _heneket_ on his order and served the third to the vizier. Satisfied with the arrangement, he continued.

"I thought as much, although my services were always welcomed in your household. You do not recognise my name now, but perhaps you remember my childhood name? I was Goku Son, one of your servant boys; I have served you a full six years." The vizier absorbed all he had to say and sank back into his chair, painstakingly trying to remember the young boy which this soldier referred to. Finally, he sat up right once more and asked, "Your father was a soldier, was he not? Bardok Son, wasn't it! He was a fine man and a loyal soldier to the Crown. Yes, I remember him quite well. He was a soldier of my house in my early years of Grand Vizier." He smiled thoughtfully as he remembered the man, a soft fondness was evident in his posture and he eased a little more at each thought and pleasant memory. "Bardok was a good friend to me. Before his departing of this world, he placed upon me a charge to care for the family he would leave behind, a wife and two sons. I could not resist his confidence in me, so I cared for his family as best I could, by hiring his wife and later his sons, one of which you claim is yourself, the young Goku." Kakarott smiled at the mention of his father, he had been merely three years of age when his father had been struck down in battle against the tribes of Kush. He had died days later, and now lay in a modest tomb in Saqqara.

"But you cannot be who you claim to once have been," continued the vizier. "Goku Son went missing years ago, and was never found. His mother never recovered from the shock of losing her husband and her youngest son. She remained a broken woman. Her _ba_ could not be healed by even the most experienced physicians or by the most holy of the priesthood. She unfortunately passed to the West on the barge of Amun-Ra not too long after."

"I know of what happened to my mother," replied Kakarott sorrowfully. "I am, however, the youngest son of Bardok and Wosworet Son, and brother to Raditz Bardok Son."

The vizier frowned. How could he tell if the man was really who he claimed to be? He had spent months searching the streets of Thebes and Karnak for the young boy. Even offered rewards to the first person to bring the boy back alive. Most of his own time and money had been spent in the searches, but there had been no word of the boy's whereabouts or of any sightings. Regrettably, Menset Ib ceased all hunting parties and resided in the knowledge that the boy had been taken by a crocodile, kidnapped by the roaming Bedouin or captured by the slave traders from Assyria. It was unlikely to have been a drowning, since Egyptians knew how to swim from birth.

"Your hand if you please, Soldier…" Menset began, gesturing to the left hand of the man. Kakarott hesitated for a moment; he studied the wizen features of the Vizier and found no cause for alarm. Placing his left hand out into the centre of the cedar table, palm facing down, he obeyed the command. Menset turned to a young boy standing patiently behind him holding a shallow bronze bowl. The boy stepped briskly forwards and offered the bowl of clean, cool water to the Vizier so he could wash his hands. Turning back to the soldiers, Menset Ib reached out to gently turn over the outstretched left hand and keenly studied the palm.

Tears began threatening the aging man's dark eyes. There it was; the mark that only he and few others knew existed to identify the young boy. A small, silvered scar in the shape of half papyrus flower appeared under the cool influence of his dampened hands. Clearing his throat the Vizier stared at the soldier.

"Do you know where you got this scar from?"

Kakarott stared at the palm and traced the scar, causing it to develop a slight purple tinge. He contemplated the scar for a moment, eyes glazed over in concentration. After several minutes, he awoke for the trance. "There was a large field near the banks of the Nile."

Vegeta scoffed, "There are millions near the Nile."

"No, this one was different. There were two girls there too." Kakarott struggled with the memories. They were vague and seemed as though from many lifetimes ago. How could he possibly remember all the events? He barely remembered his father and mother.

"Yes, I own the field you mentioned. It is one of three large plots provided to me as a 10th year gift from Pharaoh. The two girls you mentioned… can you describe them?"

"I recall a girl with unique eyes, green or maybe even blue. She was accompanied by another quieter girl. I can't remember much else, but I feel I know these girls well enough. It is frustrating me. Would you know them? Or are they purely imaginary?"

Standing up, Menset Ib made his way to the opposite end of the cedar table. The soldiers stood to attention. There was silence in the vast reaches of the room. Finally standing in front of the tall build of the soldier, Menset Ib clasped the upper arm in a firm hold.

"The girls you speak of were once great friends with you as a young boy. The girls, who are now fine women, reside in my House. The girl with azure eyes is my niece and the meek girl is a servant of my House. You were playing amongst the clay pit fires where the water was boiled for use in the Household. My niece's bracelet trinket fell into one of the open pits. You reached in to get it, and since it had heated in the dying flames, the imprint of half the papyrus bloom burnt into your flesh like a birthmark."

The Vizier beamed, a few stray tears seeped silently down his cheek. "The joy of having found you after all this time restores my heart and my faith in the Divine Pantheon tenfold! This is a joyous occasion! Young Kakarott Goku Son back from the dead! Lady Bulma will be enthralled to meet you once again… she mourned the memory of her missing childhood friend."

"Our meeting here is of sum importance, my Lord," Vegeta mentioned, trying to break the moment in hope of spurring their negotiations. The Vizier regarded the other soldier. "Yes, you are correct. We can discuss matters further tonight. You will be coming to a grand banquet in honour of Sobek and the return of Bardok's son. I insist that you and your finest recruits join my Household and the populace to rejoice this immense event."

"We humbly accept your offer, Vizier Menset Ib. May Pharaoh smile upon you eternally. We shall arrive in the first watch to greet you and your guests." With solemn bow, Vegeta and Kakarott bid their leave of Menset Ib.

* * *

_More to come _

_That was a terribly long delay between chapters, but I assure you, this will be finished _(--;).

_This chapter is dedicated to my inspirational friend, Nicole._

_For the people who might feel a little lost with all the new words and Egyptian lingo, I'll put a little note at the bottom of the chapter and describe to the best of my ability the meaning etc._

**Sharmah****– **an Egyptian greeting  
**Sepat****–** the Egyptian word for the Greek word "nome" meaning district. There were 20 sepats in the Lower Kingdom and 22 sepats in the Upper.  
**Heneket****– **beer brewed from barley, and a very popular drink among Egyptians.


End file.
